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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790302">Mutilation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BokuNoWriterAcademia/pseuds/BokuNoWriterAcademia'>BokuNoWriterAcademia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hotline Miami (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Detectives, Gen, Murder, One Shot, Police, Serial Killers, Short One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:00:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BokuNoWriterAcademia/pseuds/BokuNoWriterAcademia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>1990. Miami. Detective Manny Pardo is simply your average cop, living his life as he does, in his own way.</p><p>It's a shame that way involves murder.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mutilation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a screech of tyres against sun-baked asphalt as the dark blue sedan ground to a halt in the vast industrial complex in the lower western area of Miami. The sky above was dark and filled with clouds, yet it was ridiculously hot. There must be a storm brewing.</p><p>The door of the sedan swung open and a withered down cigarette butt was flicked onto the ground, before a heavy boot came down upon it, crushing the lit butt out permanently. The owner of said boot surveyed his surroundings. The area was as shit as he remembered, overrun by gangbangers and thugs. The police were never able to obtain a warrant to search the area, but it was common knowledge to all that there were some high-grade weaponry and drugs being stored in the complex.</p><p>The blonde-haired man removed his thick-rimmed aviator sunglasses and set them on the dashboard of his car, as he went around to the trunk. He was tall and lean, dressed in a navy-shirted brown suit. Five o’clock shadow coated his face, and his hair was dishevelled. His name was Manny Pardo, and he was a detective with the Miami Police Department. He was also a delusional serial killer with a victim complex and an ego the size of a small moon he grinned as he looked down into the depths of his trunk, where lay a man, bound and gagged, his eyes wide and full of fear, as his pupils contracted, adjusting to the sudden sunlight thrust upon him.</p><p>”Johnny, Johnny…” Pardo sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at the kid, who was barely any older than nineteen or twenty. “How many times do I have to tell you? You should stay out of things like this. Stay inside. Play video games or whatever it is kids do nowadays. Just stay off the streets, for god’s sake… You must've heard about the Miami Mutilator by now. Now, get the hell out of there.”</p><p>Sighing, the distinguished detective unbound the cuffs that bound young Johnny’s arms and pulled him from the sedan’s trunk. The boy rubbed his wrists, which were raw and inflamed from the tight binds that had kept his hands secured for the past three hours.</p><p>“Th-thank you, Mr. Pardo… For saving me from those guys.” The wide-eyed teen said gratefully, clearly unaware of his rapidly Impending fate. “Hey… Where the hell are we? This isn’t mom’s place…”</p><p>“Look son, there’s something I must show you.” The officer conceded, placing the handcuffs back into his pocket. “Please… follow me. And don’t waste any time.” And so, without another word, Pardo led the young man across the asphalt, the humidity beating down on them. The cop was halfway tempted to remove his jacket. But no. He chose to remain professional. Before long had passed, the duo reached a large, abandoned warehouse at the center of the complex.</p><p>“Please, you first, Johnny.” He urged, holding the door open. By this point, the boy was beginning to get nervous and it was obvious. The detective felt his teeth tighten as he silently growled, like a predator about to lose his prey. Now cautious, the kid stepped inside.</p><p>The warehouse was totally gutted, empty save for some power generators lining the walls, and the odd container filling in the emptiness. It was silent too, deathly so. On one wall, high up, sat a mounted fan, but it had long since fallen into disuse, hanging there. As Johnny stepped further into the facility, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness, thanks in part to the streaks of light coming through gaps in the corrugated iron walls.</p><p>“Hey, Mr. Pardo?” The kid finally asked, turning around to face the detective. “What is it you wanted to show me?”</p><p>The gunshot echoed throughout the warehouse, the noise bouncing off the walls and sounding near-deafening to the occupants of the building. In the space of a few seconds, the entirety of Johnny’s upper face had disappeared, blown off by the blast of the Magnum revolver that Pardo held in his hands. The boy stumbled for a few moments, before flopping down, blood coating the floor as he hit the ground with a splat.</p><p>The shooter stood for a few seconds, hyperventilating, as his hand shook. He had done it. Another victim. It was so, so easy to lure these people like this. They were so stupid, so gullible, so damn easy to lead...</p><p>With a brief chuckle, Manny Pardo strode over to where Johnny’s body lay and kneeled down next to it, tutting and shaking his head like a disappointed father.</p><p>“Johnny, look at the mess you’ve made.” He scolded, taking the remains of the kid’s head and slamming it repeatedly against the hard, concrete flooring. “What about those who’ll have to clean up for you? So selfish and inconsiderate.”</p><p>With a final slam, the bullet lodged in the victim’s upper jaw fell loose and Pardo wasted no time in picking it up, using his sleeve to clean off the blood and slotting it into the inside pocket of his jacket.</p><p>“Now,” The detective indicated, bringing his hand to slowly unzip the teen’s green hoodie. “Now the fun part begins.”</p>
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